Healing
by Rothelena
Summary: Tag for 3.14 "Blood for Blood". PWP. Explicit. M. Yeah. I know.


_Okay, my friends, one more of the same: PWP, M, smutty- you get the picture._

_And: I need to take a break after that one- I'm so excited about season four, I'm close to hysteria- and I absolutely can't write like this. So, please, be patient: I'll be back this weekend._

_Disclaimer: it's not mine! That's not gonna change!_

Healing

Jane couldn't stop watching her tonight. He noticed her restlessness, saw the torrent of emotions coursing through her face whenever she passed his couch. She hardly looked at him.

He knew how much the rules meant to her. How following them was the only security life could grant her sometimes. But today, she had bent them. Not only for Trina- but for him, too. And damn if she knew how to feel about that now.

Jane knew the decision had been right. Knew they had saved a girl who had done nothing wrong in his universe by keeping Trina from getting harassed further. But there was something else that gripped his heart in a deadly clutch.

The memory of one sentence.

"Her father was an abuser." Jane had said.

And she had answered:

"So was mine. I didn't shoot him."

He had replayed the sentence over and over in his mind since that very moment. And he couldn't help imagining the young raven-haired girl she had once been, hurting and scared. A wave of protectiveness had washed over him, and it hadn't subsided. All day long. He'd come to Trina's defense when she'd needed him. But nobody had been there for sweet Teresa. His heart clenched at the thought. Tonight, it bled for her.

When he'd seduced her for the first time he'd known it wasn't only about sex. But the fierceness of his emotions never failed to astonish him. He hadn't noticed that he was in over his head when he'd decided to get involved with her. Now, there was no way out.

He knew she was angry with him, somewhere deep down where she possibly couldn't reach. That she wanted to punish him because he had talked her into betraying her principles. Principles she'd sworn to protect. He was ready to be punished. But he couldn't just let her suffer.

It got dark, and the bullpen emptied out. Silence crept into the hallways of CBI headquarters. Jane lay on his couch and waited patiently. When everybody had left for the night, he sensed her scooting closer. First, she straightened something on Cho's desk. Then she looked something up on Grace's computer. She ignored him as long as possible, and he let her. But he felt his mind reaching out to her, and he recognized the longing that mixed into it. He smiled softly to himself- damn, he was such a sucker for his sweet little team-leader. He was blind with rage when he thought about her father, though. He hoped the bastard burned in hell for what he'd done to her.

He let his anger flare like a flame before he dismissed it. He was pretty emotional these days, and he was sure it had everything to do with her. But he knew how to deal with things like that. It wasn't easy to overwhelm him. He looked at her. Yes, she could do it. She knew how to make him feel too much.

Finally she turned, leaning back against van Pelt's desk. Looking at him.

„Hey," he said softly.

"Don't you dare to say it," she whispered, no aggression in her voice. Almost heartbroken.

"Okay," he murmured, sitting up on his couch," I understand- the case is not closed for you, so no sex privileges for me. I can accept that. But please- just let me help you to feel better. Just a massage. Clothes on, and I won't try anything funny, okay? You need to relax, Lisbon. And I want to be there for you."

She watched him, her eyes lost and tired. Everything pulled her towards him, and the memory of his warmth made her shiver with the chill surrounding her, creeping into her bones. She nodded softly, and he motioned for her to lay face down on his couch.

She followed instructions. The worn leather smelled like him…she buried her nose into the rough fabric, inhaling the fresh, male scent, shuddering with need. Why did she have to be that hungry for him? She just wanted closer, closer, until she was embedded inside him, feeling the rush of his blood comfort her.

Jane put his hands on her body, and she was lost, her clothes too rough, almost chafing on her sensitive skin, his heat seeping into her, chasing the cold away. His grip was firm, but so gentle she couldn't help relaxing. He traced her stiff muscles, searching for the areas where the tension was greatest, working out the knots one by one.

The longing started in the pit of her stomach, coiling, so fierce she almost gasped with the force of it. All of a sudden she felt like a frightened little child kept at arm's length while it begged to be held. Tears were stinging her eyes.

"Stop," she said softly, and she had to give him credit- he did, immediately, scooting aside so she could sit up. They sat next to each other for some quiet moments, their breath the only sound that could be heard.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

"You know," he answered, "that all you had to do was ask."

He leant over and brushed her lips with his, feeling her tremble beneath him. He deepened the kiss slightly, not daring to use his tongue. He would let her take the lead tonight and ignore the demands of his body.

But she surprised him. She moved quickly, straddling his lap, her tiny hands driving into his hair. She angled his head for better access and pushed her tongue inside his mouth without preliminaries. He moaned deeply and felt his erection growing against her groin. She didn't shy away, but rubbed up against it, sharpening the sensation until he was panting with lust.

"Lisbon," he breathed, "I promised we wouldn't do that tonight…"

"No, you didn't," she whispered, "you promised you wouldn't try anything funny. And you are not."

She pressed some languid, wet kisses on his mouth, her tongue sliding against his, challenging him to respond harder. She shuddered with delight when his grip on her upper arms tightened. He was so hard now she could feel the extraordinary heat against her sex, getting wet for him. There was no way she could fight the need.

She wrenched her lips free with utter reluctance and got up, fumbling to get rid of her pants and panties. She discarded the offending garments hastily and returned to his lap without hesitation, her legs clutching his thighs. His hands slid over her soft, naked skin, caressing her butt, her back beneath her shirt while she fed him kiss after kiss, a sensual dance of lips and tongues, igniting a fire that took his breath away. His hips started to undulate against her crotch, letting her feel what she did to him.

Her nimble fingers opened the buttons of his vest and shirt until they hung open, giving her access to his bare torso. When she sucked his nipple into her mouth his erection started to throb violently, and a desperate groan was torn from his throat. He watched how her tongue played with the tiny buds, now swollen with lust, and the sight was so sexy he almost came in his pants.

"Teresa," he whispered, his hands sliding through the long, silken strands of her hair, "I have a pretty hard time restraining myself here…"

She chuckled softly and opened his belt, pulling the zipper down before she pushed his clothes away to free his erection. He was huge, hard like steel. Her fingers brushed the massive column gently, and he bucked beneath her, stifling a desperate yelp. She gripped his hard-on tightly, always amazed at the fact that she simply couldn't span it's width with her hand, and squeezed softly, rubbing up and down. He inhaled sharply and gently extricated his member from her eager hand.

"Are you crazy?" he whimpered hoarsely, "Why would you want me to come all over your shirt?"

She smiled at him and pressed a short kiss on his lips, her smile deepening when his mouth followed her even after she pulled away, begging for more attention. She kissed him thoroughly for some minutes, plundering the sweet cavern, drinking his exquisite taste until she felt heady with it.

"Patrick," she whispered against his lips and felt him shudder with delight.

She seldom used his given name, but when she did, it felt like a caress. Made him ravenous. And his little minx knew that.

She broke the kiss, making him feel bereft, and he whimpered in disapproval. But he gasped when she lifted her groin from his and positioned his pulsing manhood at her entrance. She couldn't believe how hot he was, almost searing her sensitive flesh, but she pushed down, letting him enter slowly, inch for agonizing inch. Why did she never get used to his size? Every time it was a struggle to take him, but it felt so good- the sweetest pleasure-pain she'd ever known, and she simply couldn't get enough. Swallowing him into her body wiped her mind clean. Everything gone but the sensation of him throbbing inside her. She took him in to the hilt, settling down on his hips again, and he cried out with ecstasy, his legs moving restlessly beneath her.

He pushed his forehead against hers and she started to move, slowly lifting her body before pushing back down, establishing a rhythm, filling herself with his towering rod over and over again, and Jane simply couldn't bare the fierce burn she ignited in every part of his body. He gritted his teeth to get a grip, his sweet breath spilling against her face, their foreheads still touching. She moved again, and with each stroke, each time she slammed down on his cock, another piece of his self-control evaporated into thin air, until he almost screamed in despair, his tortured shaft begging to come, but she wouldn't let him, her movements slow enough so the release kept hovering just out of his reach. Her clit was so close to her sweet little opening that his hard-on rubbed against it every time it entered the soft, tight confines, and it didn't take her long to climax, her walls contracting around his pulsating length, so needy it felt like pure agony.

She stopped moving while she came, screaming his name over and over, and he was so close, so awfully close and still couldn't reach orgasm, until he roared with desperation and took control.

"I'm sorry, Teresa," he gasped, "I'm gonna die a miserable death if I don't come soon- forgive me."

He got up, holding her in his arms, making sure he didn't slip out- which was not a problem considering his size and extraordinary hardness. He turned and sat her on the couch, sinking down in front of her, kneeling between her spread legs. His cock was twitching inside her, and he groaned when he lost the last remains of control. He slammed into her, sending her straight into a mind-blowing multiple orgasm, reveling in her high shrieks of sheer sexual bliss while he pounded into her full force, faster, deeper, claiming the whole of her body, no one had ever taken her as deep, the impact was enormous, her small frame shaking with the power of his thrusts, sweat was dripping from his face. His mouth fell open, oh yes, he could feel it, poised inside his balls, only seconds now, his hips jackhammered, every fiber of him so desperate for the impending release, and Lisbon almost passed out with the rush of sensation crashing down on her like a concrete wall. She felt the blazing heat of his shaft deep inside her, and her sheath clutched him so tight he had to use all his strength to pull free. Adrenaline drove him on, made him able to fuck her this hard for minutes, to survive her endless convulsions until she whispered his given name into his ear and send him over the edge in a torrent of earth-shattering pleasure.

He choked with the force of his release, his insides clenching under the onslaught, semen blasting from his cock like lava from a volcano.

Lisbon raised her hips to receive the gush of his essence. She loved the vigor of his ejaculations, loved that she could literally feel the spurts of heat deep inside her, one by one. His hips were still pumping, triggering a million aftershocks that roamed her body, setting every nerve on fire, he gasped and she pulled him into her arms while he exploded inside her, filling her clenching core with his hot seed. God, it felt good. Love ran through her like an electric shock, and she clutched him tighter, kissing his ear, his neck, sliding her hands over his naked chest and abdomen.

Every touch felt like the brush of a flame on his hyper-sensitive skin, and he shuddered heavily.

"Teresa," he whispered, voice trembling, "I have to lie down for a moment…"

Lisbon growled her disapproval when he pulled out, but got up to put her pants and panties back on. Jane straightened his clothes and closed his fly with shaking hands before he crashed down on the couch. He still saw stars when he closed his eyes.

Lisbon felt alive, invigorated. Her skin tingled with the low hum of utter satisfaction, her spirits soaring, still drunk from his delicious closeness. Damn, she'd fallen for him, hard. But tonight- she just didn't care. She felt wonderful, the mind-numbing misery gone, and she savored the quiet bliss.

She simply lay down on top of him, ignoring his groan when her slight weight registered. He hadn't re-buttoned his shirt, so she snuggled up against his naked chest, listening to his heartbeat, her hands sneaking around his body to caress his flanks.

"We can't stay here, my love," he whispered, his large hands sliding over her back, "when they find us like this in the morning, all hell breaks loose."

"Okay," she sighed, "I'm driving."

"I certainly won't complain about that," he chuckled.

For a moment, they were silent.

"Teresa," Jane breathed eventually, "you know that I love you, don't you?"

"Yes," she answered, her heart slamming against her ribcage. She knew he had a hard time saying it sometimes. The emotions were still new and unfamiliar, but she knew that he was coming around. She could feel it. He could spend comfort and warmth now. And he didn't push her away any longer. Sometimes, they allowed themselves to stop playing games. Stop fighting for control, for superiority.

"He might have been a monster, "Jane said, "but he is dead, Lisbon. You survived. And you are so strong. You have me, huh? I would protect you with my life."

He had never said something like this. Had never touched that level of commitment. But she didn't want to probe tonight, didn't want anything to spoil the peace she felt deep inside her. But yes- she hoped that one day, he would say it again. It felt like a soothing balm on the wounds her past had inflicted. Nobody had protected Teresa Lisbon when she'd been young and innocent. But despite being the most impossible candidate to spend solace, he was here now.

She turned her head and kissed him, pouring her heart into the soft groping movements of her lips.

She had to get him home soon.

**The End**

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